Devil
by Laerkstrein
Summary: They may just be words, but, sometimes, they explain everything.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach_, _or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Devil**

**A/N: **Lemon; "Let the devil catch you by but a single hair, and you are his forever." - Gotthold Ephraiam Lessing

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><p>"Say it."<p>

She purses her lips and doesn't move. He's no stranger to difficulty, to defiance, but her habit is one he wants to break, if only for the night. In her eyes, she issues a challenge. He'll have to work in order to break her, get her to speak those words he wants to hear. She doesn't present this oppotunity often. That makes this all the more thrilling.

They're touching now, caught in the sheets, her face tilted up toward his with a smile. She stares at him with a burning satisfaction, one that he cannot even dispel when he moves a hand toward her face.

His fingers stray to her cheek. A part of him wants to shake it out of her, and she must know it. But everything about her stays the same. Her breathing, her pulse, her eyes. Still taunting him, in silent content, she does nothing.

It's shocking, the way the warmth from her face sinks into his skin. It bites for a moment, and then it spreads. His fingers move slowly, across her shoulder and down her arm, stopping at the wrist where he pins her. But she slips easily away. He leans closer, watching her for any change, coming down to breathe in her ear.

_"Say it.__"_

He doesn't need to look at her to know that she's smiling, egging him on. But her lack of a vocal answer is far more direct. A sharp tug as she twists her fingers into his hair.

So he teases her, brushing a hand against the inside of her leg, laughing as she gasps. How much more beautiful she would be, he thinks, were she always this commanding, this difficult. And even more appealing with those words working their way out of her throat. But Retsu won't give him that pleasure. Not yet.

He keeps her busy with the touch, breathing in her sighs. She's eager, possibly in agony, her fingers chill in the night air as they move down his neck to scrape against his shoulders. At this pace, she'll break before the entertainment even starts. Mayuri sets her further on edge, moving to nip at her collarbone. She trembles, the gentle ministrations grow more passionate as his teeth scrape against her skin.

Retsu whimpers, her guarded walls of ice now crumbling.

She moans beneath him, fingers tangled in his hair again. It's working for now, but under her skin, she's anything but the gentle, merciful woman that the rest of the world sees. On the inside, she's made up of fire and brimstone. Perhaps she's even a little sadistic, the way she takes pleasure in putting her own spin on the already torturous games they play.

It's no secret that she likes to make him squirm.

Mayuri stops, her breathing becoming more relaxed. "Just once?" he whispers, tilting his head to look at her.

Her bright eyes widen. Yes, it must be terribly shocking for her to realize that he's asked her, rather than made a demand. But, if she won't play solely by his rules, he'll take hers and twist them.

The smile comes back to play on Retsu's lips. She captivates him with those methodical eyes, her movements going unnoticed until she tugs on his hair again, causing him to fall onto his side. She's taken control away from him, forcing him onto his back, fingers curling around his wrists to keep him still.

Everything she does is the same. The gentle touches that push him to the edge and back, her voice as she whispers words that he can't seem to pull from the fog. He's a damned fool to have believed that it would work this time.

One success doesn't make a hundred more.

It's like hell when they meet, every damned thing in him wanting to fight her off and take back the game that should have been his. He wasn't supposed to let go of pride and beg, even for welcoming pleasure. She's thoroughly enjoying it, the friction between their bodies as she forces herself on him, leaning down to moan into his mouth. Her hands fall away from his, scraping his sides, her lips sliding away to bite him.

It defies his entire existence, the mere thought of saying she's doing everything perfectly. But that's just the godawful effect she has on him. Soiling his already narrowed outlook, making him think things that can never exist. It's all so one-sided. Retsu doesn't seem to be affected by him at all. Not in ways that could bring her to take life rather than save it.

Until he dares to look at her, Mayuri has no idea that he's been hissing her name.

"You are a devil," she says, pressing her forehead to his. Their mouths meld together again. She's obviously satisfied. _"Wicked man."_

It's just too much, trying not to laugh at her.


End file.
